


The Malboro at the Quay

by prompreg



Series: The Monsters of Eos [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (with fantasy creatures only), Aftercare, Bestiality, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster Dick, Monsters, Multi, Oviposition, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Difference, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Trans Mpreg, graphic childbirth, monster fucking, trans preg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-12-27 01:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21110729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompreg/pseuds/prompreg
Summary: Prompto knew their trip to Galdin Quay wasn't a vacation. He knew their endgame was a wedding chapel in Altissia that only one of them would be standing under. But that sucked, and he was determined to make the most of what precious hours of happiness he still had left.Too bad he ran into that Malboro.==(Please mind the tags, this is monster fucking primarily with OT4 in the background. Gonna be part of a series that is equally as messed up.)





	1. Impregnation

**Author's Note:**

> A little different than my usual stuff, this is literally Prompto getting fucked and impregnated by a Malboro so... enjoy?

Galdin Quay was probably the most beautiful place Prompto had ever seen with his own two eyes. He’d seen prettier photographs for sure; sweeping shots of the Disc of Cauthess, full of wonder and power with the sun just starting to rise; mysterious wide shots of the Rock of Ravatogh, shrouded in fog; eerie closeups of the Malmalam Thicket after a dewy rain; still shots of the Vesperpool with the coolest lens flare he’d ever seen; and of course literally anything taken of the gorgeous water channels of Altissia. But even though those places all existed, they were far away and untouchable; as far away and untouchable as Galdin Quay had been until they’d pulled right up to the resort’s door not even ten minutes ago.

Everything about the Quay screamed ‘vacation destination’, and it was throwing Prompto off more than he cared to admit. They weren’t on vacation, even if the warm sun and picturesque sand and soothing sea-spray tried to convince him otherwise. They never would be on vacation, because their roadtrip’s destination was a wedding that only one of them had been preparing vows for, and even Galdin Quay’s postcard perfection drew them ever closer to the ending Prompto had been dreading before it was ever officially decided.

It wasn’t a vacation because the four of them could never actually go on vacation together, just like Prompto’s parents had never been able to afford the time off for one, but maybe if he closed his eyes and breathed the sea-heavy air in he could pretend it was, especially when it turned out the ferry wasn’t running and they were forced to rent a room in the most luxurious resort he’d ever seen.

The room itself didn’t hold a candle to anything found in the Citadel, including Noct’s personal chambers, but it was still leagues above anything Prompto had ever owned and the view of the water through their huge floor to ceiling windows almost put the view from Noct’s apartment to shame. Spirits were still low as they filed into the room, as low as they had been since the moment they left the city, but for the first time since they left there was something to look forward to; an entire night alone in a gorgeous place with nowhere else they had to be.

So Prompto amped up his own energy as he tore the curtains open and made a show of collapsing onto the huge, comfortable bed.

“Oh my gods,” he moaned with more innuendo than he really ought to have, stretching onto the mattress like a cat. “This is even better than your bed, Noct!”

“Really?” Noct asked and wandered over. Knowing His Highness would be unable to be moved the moment he laid down, Prompto immediately jumped from the bed and held his arms out to bar it.

“No you don’t! Dude, did you see that beach? The room is nice but we are literally not staying here all day.”

Gladio snorted from the other side of the room, though it lacked any real amusement, “You’re the one that mentioned the bed.”

“Forget about the bed! We have a whole day here and I know you all packed your swimsuits. Let’s go swimming!”

“This delay will have set everything back even further than the car did,” Ignis said, already sitting down at the table and taking out the notebook he’d been glued to for weeks, “I’ll have to rearrange everything.”

“I know for a fact that you don’t need all day to do that, Igs, you’re a literal genius who has that whole notebook memorized--hey, no!” Prompto squawked as Noctis managed to weasel his way through Prompto’s grasp and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

“I’m napping while Specs fusses,” Noct said.

“No! No fussing, no napping! Gladio, help me out here!”

“Sorry, kid. You know nothing’s strong enough to separate Iggy from that book or Noct from a bed.”

Already, Noct was curled up around a pillow and snoring softly. Forget the magic, that was his real superpower.

Unable to stop himself from pouting, Prompto turned to the other two. Ignis was concentrating on his notebook with extra focus, fingers deftly dancing over the tablet he’d set up right beside it, and Gladio already had his own book out and opened on his lap.

It wasn’t a vacation, but Prompto refused to sit inside and be miserable all day.

“I’m gonna go swimming. You wanna come, big guy?”

“Nah,” Gladio said, turning a page, “I’m gonna do some reps soon. I’ll bring these two over when Iggy’s done so save us a spot on the beach.”

“Oh, sure.” Prompto had to fight to keep the disappointment from his voice, and forced it away with an added influx of false cheer. “You bozos better not take too long ‘cause if I get pruny and sunburned waiting for you you’re gonna be the ones hearing about it all night!”

Already he had wiggled out of his clothes and into his bathing suit; a pair of trunks and a compression shirt Noct had surprised him with last year, and was heading to the door.

“Wear sunscreen,” Ignis said as Prompto opened the door, proof that even distracted he couldn’t help but be a mother hen.

“Yes, mom,” Prompto chirped and disappeared out into the hall. As soon as the door was closed behind him he allowed his shoulders to fall, the forced energy leaving in a rush. It wasn’t a vacation, but all Prompto wanted to do was pretend as long as possible that it was. 

“I can still have fun without them,” Prompto said as he wandered down the hall, completely unsure of it but determined nonetheless. At the very least he could get some nice shots of the water.

==

Despite the complaining he’d done for the guys’ benefit, Prompto didn’t actually go swimming right away. Instead he wandered barefoot along the length of the beach, marveled at the feeling of warm sand between his toes, pulled out his camera and took shots of the water and the pier and the sand and even a few of the children playing and of the cat lounging that would surely make Noct smile. There was so much beach to explore and Prompto wanted to see it all, wanted to find the most perfect part and take the best photos. It wasn’t a vacation, but he wanted to remember it.

He’d been wandering for nearly an hour before he knew it, without a single text or call to let him know that the guys would meet up with him soon. The pier was almost completely out of sight, but Prompto found he didn’t really want to wander back yet. The area he’d found was secluded, without a single soul to accidentally wander into his shots, and the rock formation just a little further down looked like it might have been a cave. Definitely curious, Prompto pretended the lack of calls didn’t bother him as he tossed his phone into the armiger.

Caves were less than ideal normally, especially for someone as claustrophobic as he was, but the sun and water made for a perfect photo location and he evidently had plenty of time on his hands.

“There better not be anything lurking in here,” Prompto said as he finally waded into the water. It was as warm and inviting as the sand had been, and he let himself sink into it with a sigh of content as he slowly waded away from the shoreline. 

The cave wasn’t far from the coast, but it was definitely even more secluded. There was no way the guys would find him without a little help, if they ever even came looking at all, but that vaguely creepy thought wasn’t nearly enough to trump the breathtaking view he was getting. Prompto took more than a dozen photos of the way the water lapped up against the edges of the rock, of the sunlight chasing its way inside the cave and illuminating part of the interior.

It was truly beautiful, but there were only so many photos to take. When he was done, Prompto discarded his camera back into the armiger and let himself relax into the water. The guys still hadn’t contacted him, and that sucked, but the water was just wonderful enough that he could pretend it didn’t bother him.

Swimming in pools had nothing on the ocean; the saltwater was something else entirely and the feeling of fish and algae brushing against his legs was unnerving at first but finally becoming less weird the longer he stayed submerged. The breeze and the gentle feeling of the water really were doing wonders for the nerves he’d been carrying around since Noct’s engagement was announced, and he finally felt himself starting to truly relax.

“They’re missing out,” he said as he called his phone back just long enough to check his messages and then send it away again. 

There was another tickle against his leg, insistent enough that it stayed even after a gentle nudge of his foot, and then followed when he moved back a step and then another.

“What?” He murmured, worried he was getting tangled in some seaweed, when the tickle suddenly became the firm sensation of something strong and slippery winding around his leg.

Prompto didn’t have any time to ponder what was happening before his foot was abruptly yanked out from under him. He went crashing into the water, with enough abruptness and force that his gasp of surprise came entirely too late. Taking in a lungful of saltwater, Prompto couldn’t breathe for several terrifying seconds. When at last he breached the surface of the water he choked and sputtered, saltwater exploding out of his mouth and oxygen barely replacing it between hacking, desperate coughs.

Again he was submerged, and this time Prompto blindly reached out with his arms for his attacker. The only thing he found was another hard, slippery form, almost like a tentacle. Rather than be grasped, it wrapped itself around his wrist and yanked him back out of the water. 

Prompto was too disoriented to do anything more than cough and desperately suck in more air. Even his eyes refused to open properly, his lashes stuck together with burning water. 

“Please!” He croaked, free hand desperately wiping the water from stinging eyes as he struggled for breath. 

He wasn’t dunked again, but he was being moved through the water; the scrape of his foot against the floor proved that, and when he finally opened his eyes he saw by who… or, rather, by what because the creature that loomed before him was definitely not a person. It looked like a wall of vines, if those vines were thick tentacle-like appendages and the wall had rows of huge, terrifying teeth.

To say Prompto screamed was an understatement, the noise he let out was really more like a horrified wail. He’d seen pictures of Malboro before, even recently during his beyond-the-wall crash course, but nothing could prepare him for the intimate view he was getting. 

The creature was horrifying, but even terrified out of his mind Prompto could see that it wasn’t quite normal. All the photos he’d seen of the creatures made them look plant-like, their tentacle appendages truly akin to vines, but this one looked almost aquatic. There were barnacles and algae growing all along the creature, even on its rows of teeth, and what looked like fishing net and line tangled in the shorter tentacles near its body.

Hell, the thing looked like it could be its own ecosystem with the amount of stuff growing on and off it, and the stench was terrible; the Malboro definitely smelled like it had been dragged out of the ocean after several decades.

Maybe Prompto would have wanted a picture to document the strange creature if it wasn’t currently dragging him toward its haphazard rows of razor teeth.

It wasn’t until that moment that Prompto realized one of his arms was still free. Thankful for that small mercy, he quickly summoned his gun to his hand. Even though he hadn’t been using it for very long, it already felt right in his fingers, and it was almost second nature to release the safety and unload three shots right into the creature’s disgusting face.

The noise it made was as inhuman as the monster looked, but Prompto knew a wail of agony when he heard one. It reared back and flailed its tentacles, pulling Prompto along with it. Too late, he realized they were in the cave. Too late, he realized he should have gone for the tentacles holding him first because the creature’s reaction to the pain was to slam him against the roof of their enclosure with enough force to knock the gun from his hand and the air from his lungs. 

Black spots stole his vision for several seconds, exacerbated by the weightless feeling of being flailed around like a limp doll. But even disoriented, Prompto could shoot. He summoned his pistol back into his hand and squeezed his eyes and mouth shut in a vain attempt to keep his stomach from upending itself as he pressed the barrel flush against the slippery flesh of the monster’s appendage. He fired, but the Malboro was moving so much the shot wasn’t as clean as it should have been. It grazed the tentacle, caused the beast to wail again, but just as it started to loosen its hold on him another took its place.

“C’mon!” He shouted in frustration, just before another tentacle wrapped around his free arm and roughly pulled it back. Prompto cried out in pain and was forced to drop his gun again, eyes open just in time to watch it disappear into blue fragments. 

He was going to die there, on their not-vacation without the guys even knowing what happened to him. Would they assume he’d run away? Or that he’d chased a photo op to his own death? Maybe they’d assume right, that he was so weak the first monster he’d encountered alone had done him in because it didn’t matter how hard he struggled, the Malboro towered over him and had more tentacles than his hazy vision could count. The more he resisted, the more wound around his arms, his waist, his legs. Worse, the enclosed space and the feeling of the tentacles closing further in on him was making it increasingly hard to breathe. He struggled harder, gasping desperately, as the tight space and the horrifying fucking monster drove him ever closer to a panic attack.

“Stop, please! Let me go!” He babbled uselessly, knowing full well that the creature wouldn’t understand him. As expected, it didn’t react to his words at all. Instead it pulled him even deeper inside the cave, until the water was high enough to half submerge even the monstrous beast. It was only then that it seemed to calm, sinking down as if the water might cure its hurts.

“I’m sorry I shot you,” Prompto said, “fuck, let me go!”

The Malboro wound another tentacle around him, and almost seemed to relax. It wasn’t bringing him to it’s mouth again, which seemed like a good sign, but it still had him completely immobilized. That fact alone was sending him further down the claustrophobic rabbit hole of anxiety, especially when the tentacles around his legs crept further and tighter up his thighs. 

“What are you doing?” Prompto asked, voice a higher octave than it had been moments ago, as the tentacles crept even higher and wormed its way passed his swim trunks.

He couldn’t imagine the creature knew what it was doing or heading toward, but its trajectory up his thighs was hardly a good sign.

“Knock it off!” He demanded, voice shaky, and resumed his struggling with a surge of anxiety-induced energy. His legs were wrenched apart for his trouble, so suddenly and harshly he might not have imagined the pop of his joints protesting. He screamed in shock more than pain, but was still distracted by the ache enough that he didn’t notice the tentacles firmly pinning his arms to his body until he bowed his head to pant through the aftershocks.

“Don’t,” He croaked, when the tentacles resumed their upward climb. There was no doubt about their intentions when the first one began its prodding, almost timidly, at the crease of his labia.

“Don’t!” He said again, a desperate scream of protest as the tentacle went from timid to forceful and pushed its way inside.

The Malboro was hardly gentle; the tentacle was thrust deeply inside in one motion. Prompto was wet only with salt water, and not at all inside. The drag of the tentacle was like fire, harsh and intense and terrible, and his scream of pain and alarm echoed piercingly throughout the cave. 

Prompto had been fucked plenty of times before, but never like this; never with so much force or disregard for pain. The Malboro drew its tentacle out and then pushed it back in with just as much bruising power. The action was reminiscent of fucking but after a few more awful thrusts it became apparent it was less fucking and more searching, but for what Prompto couldn’t fathom. He was in too much pain to think much beyond how badly he wanted it all to end.

“Stop!” He howled, over and over, as he was speared into without remorse. The Malboro only lifted him higher as if it might help, tentacles pulling his arms even more tightly together and legs more uncomfortably apart.

It couldn’t have been worse, except when it suddenly was. The Malboro thrust its tentacle inside again, somehow even deeper than it had before, and the sudden pain as it connected with something deep inside him made Prompto see the worst kind of stars. He wailed, head thrown back in agony, and then gasped when he realized the tentacle wasn’t pulling back. No, it was trying to go even deeper, the tapered tip of it wiggling uncomfortably inside of him. The pain he’d felt when it connected wasn’t going away, and as it moved only seemed to grow more intense.

“What are you doing?” He sobbed, legs trembling in their bindings. The tentacle inched forward again, and an intense pressure followed in its wake. The Malboro must have found whatever it had been looking for because the creature suddenly stilled with its tentacle pushed as deeply inside him as it could possibly go. It was unbearably uncomfortable, the pressure intense in the worst way, but the strange moment of stillness did help to settle Prompto’s racing’s heart and trembling breath somewhat.

He was just considering how likely a bullet would be to hit the creature with his arms bound when it started; a new pressure but this time located right at his entrance. He stiffened up immediately and strained to look, dreading a second tentacle attempted to work its way inside. From what he could see, there was still just the one, but it looked different; where once it was smooth it now looked like there were mounds scattered along the length of it, distending it strangely in places. His position didn’t give him a good enough view of where it disappeared inside him, but the pressure made him wonder if such a mound had formed right where they joined.

“What?” He started to say, before the pressure abruptly came to a head, pushing its way inside him and spreading him open unbearably wide. Horrified, he watched as the other distended mounds moved as well, travelling up the length of the tentacle.

Oh, gods. They were eggs.

That realization caused a few more to come to him, each more horrifying than the last: one, that the tip of the monster’s tentacle had been forced into his cervix, and two, that the Malboro was feeding its eggs directly into his womb.

He howled as the first egg was roughly driven through the tight, abused ring of his cervix, and sobbed when he felt a second egg force its way inside him and up to join the first in his womb. The pain was all-encompassing and intense, worse than anything he could have imagined. He yearned for his guns, for his phone, for nothingness to take him, but he was entirely at the monster’s mercy. All he could do was wait, gasping and crying and screaming as he was pumped full of even more large, intrusive eggs.

He couldn’t lose count if he’d wanted to; a total of five eggs had been deposited inside him before the tentacle mercilessly drew out and away. His entire body burned, but his insides felt the worst. The pain was so distracting he could hardly feel relief, especially with his arms and legs still clutched painfully in the monster’s grasp. They were moving again, the creature carrying him through the cave, but Prompto didn’t dare hope his torment was over until he was unceremoniously tossed back into the water just outside the lip of the cave.

Fight or flight kicked in immediately and even though his arms and legs and lungs screamed in protest, Prompto scrambled as far away from the mouth of the cave as he could, kicking up saltwater and swallowing at least another mouthful in his desperation. A beat too late, he had his gun in hand again and had whirled back toward the cave with it drawn, but the beast was nowhere to be seen.

Gasping sobs wracked his body as he propelled himself from the water, desperately stumbling onto shore on hands and knees and dragging himself as far away from the deceptively calm shoreline as he could. When he was far enough away that the lap of water along the shore no longer brushed against his ankles, he allowed himself to collapse onto the sand. 

It stuck everywhere he was wet, which was everywhere he could think of, and each gasping sob brought more sand into his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. All he could do was wrap trembling, sore arms around his own shoulders and will himself to disappear.

Prompto must have laid in the sand for several minutes, just crying and spiraling, before he even remembered his phone and where he was. Struggling to sit up, he could barely support himself. His arms were trembling badly, his body sore, freezing and no doubt in shock. When he called his phone to his hand, it fell from his weak grasp, vibrating stronger than he’d expected. He was just about to reach for it when he heard it; the sound of his name bellowed from not too far away. Prompto whipped his head up toward the sound and jumped to his feet with strength he hadn’t had even a moment ago, his phone forgotten in the sand.

“Here!” He screamed, voice hoarse and barely recognizable. 

“Prompto!” Gladio shouted again, the sound of it already coming closer. Prompto stumbled across the beach like an unsteady puppy, and nearly sobbed with relief when Gladio came into view, running across the beach with all the heroic grace of a televised lifeguard.

The moment they reached each other, Prompto practically collapsed into Gladio’s arms, grasping at him desperately with trembling fingers. He was crying again, this time into Gladio’s bare chest, and only sobbed harder when strong arms wrapped tightly around him.

“What happened?” Gladio asked, the ring of his arms protective, “Are you hurt?”

Prompto wanted to reply but he could barely speak, throat sore from screaming and breath still coming in unsure gasps.

Gladio cursed quietly and pulled back just enough to shrug off his jacket and drape it across Prompto’s trembling shoulders.

He’d never felt so small and weak as Gladio easily hoisted him up, but for the moment he couldn’t care about anything beyond the calming smell of his boyfriend’s cologne and the strong ring of his arms.

==

They made it back to the room in record time; even though it had taken him nearly an hour to wander out as far as he had, most of that had been the result of photo stops. Gladio’s legs were long and his pace hurried, even with Prompto bridal-style in his arms. When the happy shouts of people caught up to them, Prompto wrapped Gladio’s jacket tighter around himself and prayed he didn’t look even half as pathetic as he felt.

It was only once the door to their room was closed that he allowed himself to break down again, tears quiet but undeniable down his sand-coated cheeks. Gladio set him on the toilet and ran the bath, quiet until his task was done and he could stoop in front of him.

“Igs and Noct aren’t back yet, we all split up to look for you. I wanna get you cleaned up before we do any first aid, you’re covered in sand and I can’t see the damage. You okay for pain?”

“Gladio,” Prompto croaked, and shivered when Gladio’s strong hand cupped the back of his neck. He didn’t speak until Prompto lifted his head and met his eyes. The fire in them was hot enough to make Prompto shudder again.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened yet, Prom, but I have to know: do you know who did this?” 

The fire in Gladio’s eyes was barely-concealed rage, directed at whatever invisible attacker he was imagining. Whatever he thought couldn’t have been close to the shameful truth.

“No,” he whispered, and Gladio let out a tense breath and nodded.

“C’mon, I’ll help you in.”

==

Bathing was difficult; Prompto had scrapes and bruises on what seemed like every part of his body, and his limbs and their joints ached terribly. Even worse, the internal abuse caused terrible twinges and aches even when he remained still. Gladio had to lather his body for him, working the sand away with surprising tenderness.

Noct and Ignis returned while he was still in the bath, but Gladio excused himself long enough to share a few words with them before returning alone. Prompto didn’t want to avoid them, but it was easier having only one of them doting on him. Too much attention would just make him feel worse, and even Gladio’s unusually gentle touch was almost more than he could take. 

So he let himself be bathed, and then allowed Gladio to examine and treat his hurts, and when that examination traveled lower he finally admitted the extent of the violation.

Gladio’s bedside manner was actually not the worst of the three, his anger buried far enough down that he could focus on pouring potions over the worst of Prompto’s pains and listening without interrupting. When he was done, he coaxed Prompto back into his embrace and was careful not to touch the distention of Prompto’s stomach that they had both noticed but hadn’t acknowledged. 

“Want me to tell the others?” Gladio asked, and Prompto nodded, relieved. Truthfully, he hadn’t wanted any of them to know. But the horror wasn’t over, not as long as the eggs remained inside him, and ignoring that wouldn’t help anyone. 

Tomorrow, they would get on a ferry to Altissia, and who knew when his body would be ready to dispel the beasts. During the boat ride? As soon as they arrived? Maybe it would happen during the wedding, right before Noct had a chance to say ‘I do’.

It was something Ignis needed to know to be prepared for, least Prompto mess everything up again.

Gladio left the bathroom first, and Prompto could hear their muffled voices through the door. First Gladio’s, and then Noct’s, louder and distressed. Ignis, sharp and then quiet. Noct again, interrupted by Gladio. Then they were all quiet, clearly speaking but more mindful of Prompto’s presence. He wrapped arms around himself and waited for it to be over.

It was Gladio that collected him a few minutes later, with a gentle knock at the door. Prompto had to take a deep breath before leaving the bathroom, and found he couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Ignis and Noct were both standing, bodies both taught like strings but Ignis clearly doing a better job of hiding it.

It was the most awkward moment the four of them had probably ever shared, even worse than the one following the announcement of Noct’s wedding.

Usually, Prompto was the one to break the awkward moments, but this time he was afraid even the thought of speaking would cause him to break down. So he just waited, so very aware of their eyes on him, until finally Noct lurched forward and captured him in a crushing hug. 

“Noct,” Gladio sighed, almost like a reprimand.

“I don’t care,” Noct shot back, voice muffled by Prompto’s shoulder, and Prompto could tell the shaking of his own shoulders was mirrored by Noct’s.

“I’m so sorry,” Noct whispered, and Prompto clung to him tightly in kind.

It was still early, but the two of them climbed into bed together and clung for several minutes, until even Ignis and Gladio joined them, fingers and toes finding some part of Prompto to touch as if to reassure themselves he was still there.

Later, when dinner had arrived and nerves had been somewhat settled, they discussed what was to come. 

It was decided that they would go to a hospital to have them removed in the morning, as discreetly as possible, and phone ahead to Altissia that Noctis had come down with something and that they would need to postpone the wedding a few more days, just long enough to get him back on his feet. As much as Prompto was opposed to being a burden in any way, the part of him that dreaded Noct’s wedding more agreed.

When finally the sun had disappeared and they were settled into bed for real, compacted as tightly as they had been before, Prompto finally let himself relax.

Tomorrow, it would all be over.

==

The next day, the world ended. News of Insomnia’s fall was in all the papers and playing on every radio and television station they came across. It was all anyone was talking about, if they spoke at all; a somber hush had fallen atop the world like a bomb, with Noct at the center.

“I can’t believe the prince is dead,” people whispered, and Noct ducked his head. They were fugitives now, Noct’s supposed death the only power they truly had left.

It took seeing the wreckage for himself to convince Noct of it, and as they stood at the rock face’s edge and watched the city they’d all loved burn, it was finally real for them all.

No one mentioned the hospital trip they had planned to take as they finally turned and left their city behind one last time. Prompto placed a trembling hand on the slight bump of his stomach and tried not to let his sorrow eat him alive; there would be time to focus on what to do about the eggs laying in his womb later. For now, they had things to do.


	2. Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's woes are far from over as the Malboro's eggs make themselves comfy in his womb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was harder to write than the first chapter but hopefully it flows alright! And as always, please mind the tags and enjoy! ;>

All things considered, like the end of life as they knew it, the topic of Prompto’s monster egg pregnancy came up pretty quickly. As in, the next day quickly. It wasn’t that somehow dealing with the eggs inside his womb wasn’t pressing and important, but Prompto had sort of expected the guys to take a few days to mentally deal with and compartmentalize the fall of their home and the loss of Noct’s kingdom before they circled back to Prompto’s own personal mistakes.

He was proven wrong that afternoon, when Ignis returned from a long string of phone calls and gathered them up into the cramped camper they were renting.

“I’ve spoken with the Marshall and the local hunters regarding our… Marlboro predicament,” Ignis started, and Prompto felt his heart immediately constrict at the prospect that Cor, The Actual Immortal and a man he looked up to, might even have an inkling of what happened to him. 

“Without giving them too many details,” Ignis said as if he could read Prompto’s thoughts, “I inquired about other cases. It is a rare condition to have, but not quite unheard of.”

“Who cares about how many other people have gone through it?” Noct asked, “What matters is going to a hospital and fixing it.”

Ignis sighed like a parent who’d already answered the same senseless question more times than they could count. When he looked at Noct, he seemed tired.

“You know as well as I do why that cannot happen.”

“Why our boyfriend needs to suffer instead of getting the medical attention he needs? No, Ignis, I’m afraid I don’t.” Already Noct was passed edging on petulant, arms crossed and face twisted into a sour expression. 

Ignis searched that sour face for a moment, his own expression pinched. 

“The empire—”

“Fuck the empire!” Noct practically shouted, standing abruptly from his seat. The camper was so cramped his knees knocked into Prompto’s.

“Noct!” Gladio chastised immediately.

“Noct,” Prompto said at the same time, voice quiet.

“I don’t give a damn about the empire! They’ve taken everything else from me, I won’t let them take Prompto too!” Point made, and no doubt emotions stirring, Noct turned on his heel and stormed from the camper. The door squeaked in protest as it was opened, and fell closed with an even more painful sound. Prompto was on his feet as quickly as he could, and raced after him.

Thankfully, Noct hadn’t gotten far. Prompto knew he could have warped away in an instant if he truly hadn’t wanted to be followed, but instead it seemed he’d only gone as far as the edge of the lot, to lean broodingly against a grafittied wall. Prompto took his time walking over, to give Noct a little space, and then awkwardly waved to announce his presence in case Noct needed to subtly wipe at his eyes. 

Together they stood in silence for several moments before Noct turned to face him, eyes dry but brows drawn together like that was a struggle.

“Fuck Ignis,” Noct said, and Prompto smiled despite himself.

“You know he’s right,” Prompto replied, and Noct looked away.

“Fuck you too,” Noct said, and pulled a halfhearted chuckle from him.

“I’m scared too, Noct. But you know if I led the empire to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“And if something happens to you?” Noct asked. He faced Prompto again, but this time his eyes weren’t dry. “I’d fucking die, Prompto. I can’t lose you.”

Seeing the tears in Noct’s made Prompto’s own eyes sting, but he forced himself to smile again, even though it felt warped and strange on his face.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he said, and stepped forward to pull Noct into a hug. Noct’s arms as they wrapped around him were crushing, but Prompto found comfort in it and was glad that Noct didn’t pull away until they’d both gotten the misting in their eyes under control.

“I love you,” Noct said, and the earnestness in his damp eyes made Prompto’s heart melt as readily as it had when Noct had said it for the first time.

“I love you too,” Prompto said, and laced their fingers together. They didn’t walk back to the camper until the sun started to set and their stomachs demanded food, but when they did they returned to Gladio reading and Ignis cooking as if the conversation had never happened. Noct was still cold toward Ignis, proof that it had, but his mood was eventually softened by a few rounds of king’s knight and the lulling of Prompto’s fingers through his hair.

It wasn’t until Noct had fallen asleep in his chair, and Gladio had carried him into the camper for bed, that Ignis pulled Prompto aside. Ignis wasn’t usually a very physical person, but he reached for Prompto’s hand of his own accord and smoothed a thumb along it in a comforting gesture before he spoke.

“Though I truly believe the hospital to be a dangerous option, it is, ultimately, your decision to make. I apologize if that wasn’t clear, Prompto, and I hope you won’t feel pressured by my own concerns. If you choose to go to the hospital, I will support your decision.”

Prompto often wondered at how different each of his boyfriends were, but at their core they were more similar than even they realized: giving, and loving, and more than Prompto deserved. 

He laced their fingers together tighter and tried on a smile.

“It’s okay, Iggy, I agree with you. I mean, I’m scared out of my mind, but I can’t risk Noct like that. I won’t risk any of you.”

Prompto gasped as he was abruptly pulled into a warm embrace. Hugging Ignis was different from hugging Noct, due to the height difference alone, but also the way Ignis cupped the back of his head as if he were something precious to be protected. 

“You’re a better man than any of us, Prompto,” Ignis whispered, voice as quiet and soothing as the hand on his head, and Prompto felt tears welling back into his eyes.

“I’m scared, Iggy,” he admitted again, though with a voice much more raw. Ignis held him tighter.

“I swear to you, Prompto, that you shall not go through this alone, and that I will do everything in my power for you. Together, we will get through this.”

Prompto didn’t stop trembling for several minutes, but Ignis held him until at last he’d finally stilled. Together they walked into the camper, fingers touching, and though the beds were cramped and uncomfortable, Ignis maneuvered them onto the same one. The space was tight but Prompto fell asleep with his head on Ignis’ chest in moments, lulled by the steady beating of Ignis’ heart and the warm, comforting hand on the back of his head.

==

The next few days were the busiest and most stressful of Prompto’s life. With Insomnia fallen, there were people to contact and plans to be made, enemies to kill and lodging to be procured nightly. Their funds and safety were never guaranteed, which was already giving Iggy stress wrinkles, and each day was packed with movement and activity. They never stayed in one place for long, except the Chocobo Ranch which they spent a blissful two nights at, and that made it actually pretty easy to forget about the unwanted passengers in his womb.

Okay, maybe ‘forget’ wasn’t quite the correct word, though it wasn’t until they’d made it to Lestallum, and their safety was guaranteed for at least a few hours at a time, that he truly started to dwell on his unusual predicament again.

It was hard to keep the worries at bay when they weren’t moving and fighting for their lives, considering how many worries he had. Were the eggs going to grow before they came out? Were they going to come out at all? How would his body know they were ready? Would it hurt as bad as giving birth was supposed to? What was he supposed to do with them afterward? Were they his children? Six, would they come along on the trip?

Some of his worries were less founded in reality and more in the spiral of his anxieties, but they were all valid to him. He found himself trying to keep busy even while in the city, and didn’t mind as much as he used to when they took on hunts because at least the action kept his brain quiet.

So he persevered, making himself busy as best and as often as he could. He took photos of the city, of the guys, of the view outside the car when they ventured out. When even a hunt didn’t distract him enough, he tested fate and whipped his camera out during battle too.

For the most part, it helped, and things didn’t get very bad until a week later, when the first, and most pressing, question on his mind was answered: yes, the eggs would get bigger. 

Maybe it had been a gradual change and he just hadn’t realized it at first, or maybe the growth happened overnight, but one morning when he woke up and slipped into his jeans he found that, suddenly, the button wouldn’t do up. For a second he almost considered that they might have shrunk, but it was pure denial. In just another moment he realized, and the force of it took his breath and his strength away so quickly he needed to sit down. He didn’t move until several minutes later, when finally Gladio had gotten sick of waiting and peered inside.

“You still in there?” Gladio asked, looking equal parts confused and concerned, because they were always concerned around him nowadays, when Prompto turned tear-foggy eyes toward him.

“My pants,” was all Prompto managed to say before he had to bite his lip to keep his emotions from bubbling over. 

“Ah, shit,” Gladio mumbled from the entrance of the tent, and stooped down to gather Prompto into a hug.

It took a few irrational, emotional moments before Gladio managed to coax Prompto to his feet and into a looser pair of pants without a button. Prompto was only thankful there was no mirror to agonize in front of as he forced himself to tuck in his shirt, looser than the ones he normally wore, and pull it out enough to hide the growing bump as best he could.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto whispered as Gladio picked up the discarded pair of jeans, and then folded and banished them.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Gladio said, and kissed the side of his head. “And nothing about this changes how I feel about you.”

It was a nice sentiment, but one that was sometimes hard to believe as, over the next few weeks, his stomach continued to swell.

Day by day, the reality of Prompto’s monster pregnancy became more and more fucked up, and less and less easy to ignore. The more physically present his stomach became, the more apparent it was that that fateful day at the Quay had been more than just the stuff of night terrors.

Worse, but other people were starting to notice too. On more than a few occasions, Prompto caught hunters they met up with in the field and at the posts they visited peering curiously at his stomach as if they were trying to figure it out, and each instance made him feel like even more of a spectacle.

It was bad enough that he had to see the evidence; that Noct and Ignis and Gladio had to see it. The thought of anyone else finding out what happened, especially anyone else he knew personally, made him physically ill.

So he picked up as loose a sweater as he could find, nevermind the sweltering desert heat, and drew as little attention as he could to the swelling, to the aches and pains. He stopped drawing attention to himself at all, at least if he could help it, and waved the guys off when they inquired or worried. 

As much and as often as he could, Prompto made it as easy to ignore what was happening to him as possible.

At least, until day 47, because day 47 was when he felt something change.

Little more than a strange stirring, at first Prompto had passed the feeling off as indigestion, then gas, and finally food poisoning. He curled up in the mess of blankets on their tent floor, barely comfortable atop the rock face they’d settled on, and convinced all three boyfriends he was just under the weather as he dealt with what had first been a strange fluttering sensation in the swell of his stomach but that quickly grew to full-on churning. Not quite hours later, the strange feeling had delved so far into ‘painful’ that he finally threw the blankets off and lifted his shirt with trembling fingers.

It became apparent almost immediately, and the horror that gripped him was so abrupt it stole the air from his lungs. Because his stomach was more than just irritated and uncomfortable, it was quite literally moving, the skin stretching around what looked like at least one physical object.

He screamed loudly and flung himself backward as if he could escape it, scrambling with his hands and feet until his back brushed against the tent wall. At the same time, the door flap was yanked open and Gladio stormed inside, looking a second away from summoning his greatsword in the small, fragile space. 

“What’s wrong?” Gladio demanded, eyes darting around the tent for a foe. Noct practically bowled him over as he pushed his way inside as well, squeezing around Gladio’s hulking body and zeroing in on Prompto immediately.

It seemed Noct noticed Prompto’s still-convulsing stomach before he could even speak, because all he managed was a strangled, audible gasp.

“What’s happened?” That was Ignis, filling the doorway and peering first around the tent and then settling on Prompto. His eyes widened but he made no sound.

“Oh, fuck,” Noct finally whispered, and Prompto felt himself tremble. He was almost afraid to cover himself up; afraid to feel the movement inside him from the outside.

It took several moments before anyone moved at all, as if their collective horror was a physical thing keeping them still. It was Ignis that moved first, and he took charge with a confidence Prompto normally envied but was now entirely grateful for. Without making a sound, he pushed passed both Gladio and Noct to procure a blanket from the floor and drape it across Prompto’s exposed body. Embarrassingly, Prompto was shaking so badly it was nearly shuddered off but Ignis knelt in front of him and placed hands on each shoulder to keep it in place.

“Please give us the room a moment,” Ignis said, still facing Prompto, though his words were clearly for Noct and Gladio. The two of them clearly hesitated, but finally Gladio unstuck his own feet from the ground and dragged Noct out with him despite their prince’s audible, if slightly delayed, protests.

“Is this the first time movement like this has happened?” Ignis asked once they were alone, and Prompto nodded, barely trusting himself to speak. 

“Is there pain?” Ignis asked. Prompto shook his head. “Contractions? Pressure?”

“No,” Prompto croaked, and Ignis released a quiet breath as he nodded.

“It’s unlikely to be labor, then,” Ignis said, and Prompto felt both relief and terror.

“Then what is it?” Prompto asked, and was ashamed that there were tears welling in his eyes.

“Foetal movement,” Ignis supplied, though warily, “The eggs have likely hatched.”

The terrified tears spilled as Prompto quickly jerked his head to search Ignis’ face.

“They hatched inside me?” Prompto’s voice was strained with panic as he reached out to grasp something, anything, for grounding support. What he found was Ignis’ hand, and was comforted slightly when it squeezed his back.

“Very many species do start as eggs in the womb but are delivered live. Humans are an obvious example, but even some types of reptiles.”

“Iggy,” Prompto practically sobbed, hand trembling where it gripped Ignis’, “I can’t do this.”

Ignis’ free hand cupped the back of Prompto’s head and drew him in closer, until their foreheads were touching and Prompto’s tears were practically wetting Ignis’ face.

“You’re not alone,” Ignis quietly reminded him, and pulled him in for a proper embrace when Prompto sobbed again. Together they sat, quiet except for Prompto’s muffled sobs, until the tears had slowed and all Prompto could do was sniffle quietly.

“I will take you to the hospital myself if you’ve reached your limit, Prompto,” Ignis said when he finally pulled away, gloved fingers wiping up Prompto’s tears, “You need only tell me, my love.”

Prompto peered down at his barely-concealed stomach, all too round between them but finally, mercifully stil. He drew in a breath that was meant to be calming but that was still hitched by emotion.

It would be so easy to give in; to break down and tearfully ask to be driven to the hospital that very moment. The thought of needing to have a live birth unnerved and terrified him beyond belief. It was, somehow, even worse than the birth he’d already been dreading by what seemed like a thousand times. All he could think about was the Malboro that had placed the eggs inside him; its tentacles and monstrous teeth, and nearly started hyperventilating anew when he realized five small replicas would be coming out of him without a shell to separate them. But if he gave into the tantalizing thought of the hospital, the 46 days he’d already endured would have been for nothing. Worse, he could, and most probably would, still draw unnecessary and unwanted attention to Noct by going.

It wasn’t worth it. Despite everything, it wasn’t worth it. 

He wasn’t worth it.

“N-no,” Prompto said, and drew in a steadying breath when the crack in his voice undermined his message. “No,” he said again, more firmly, and wiped at his damp eyes. “I can do it. I can do it.”

For Noct, he would do it.

==

The days following were, somehow, amazingly, even worse. Worse because his stomach continued to grow. Worse because he tired easily and could hardly assist his friends on hunts. Worse still because, now that the eggs had hatched inside his womb, the movement that first signaled the change returned… and often.

It was worse because no matter how often it happened, the movement always surprised him and was occasionally so bad he dropped his gun in shock or was startled awake in the middle of the night. It was wearing on him, granting him less sleep and making him even more jumpy and clumsy than he usually was. Despite what he’d said to Ignis on that 47th day, and despite his resolution to see his unwanted monster pregnancy to the end, Prompto was starting to worry he might give in to his anxiety and beg for the beasts to be cut out.

It took all of his willpower to hold out, to persist despite the growing of his belly and the movement in his womb. But he managed, even if it was graceless; even if it was a near thing; even if he had to, occasionally and quietly, break down into a pillow when he was startled awake. 

Somehow, mercifully, he held out for nearly another 20 days.

Two months, he’d had the Malboro’s seed in his womb. Two months, he’d been ashamed and full and terrified. Two months, he’d held on by the skin of his teeth and both dreaded and anticipated the day it would be over.

Two months, and on the 63rd day it finally happened, the precursor to the thing he’d been dreading from the start: labor.


End file.
